During the Cold War, Communist propaganda trumpeted the high numbers of women
licensed to practice medicine in the USSR. They neglected to mention, as a
profession, doctors lacked the sort of status they were afforded in the West (and faced a constant threat of purges). In
reality, Soviet Socialism utterly failed to liberate, economically or sexually.
However, the Party’s misogyny becomes key to two new CIA recruits’ covers. As
the widows of suddenly deceased embassy staffers (well known to be CIA
officers), the regime considers them persons of no interest (PONI’s) in co-creators
Susanna Fogel & David Iserson’s eight-part Ponies, which premieres tomorrow
on Peacock.
Chris
Grant and Tom Hasbeck were working a really big source when, suddenly, the
flight nobody knew they were taking crashed over Siberia. The grieving widows,
Bea Grant and Twila Hasbeck were quickly ushered out of the country. However,
as they puzzled over the mysterious official story, they convince Moscow
Station Chief Dane Walter to usher them back into Russia. As returning embassy clerical
staff, they could investigate without arousing the KGB’s suspicions. To the
Commies, they are just women and therefore PONI’s.
It
turns out they complement each other better than Walter expected. Grant speaks
Russian fluently and is well versed in Russian history and culture. She can
also operate the latest 1970s office devices. Hasbeck doesn’t know any of that,
but she has the street smarts and survival instincts clandestine operatives
need. Together, they generate regular stress headaches for Walter. However,
they regularly uncover fresh intel, even including some secrets Walter hoped to
withhold from them.
The
stakes really start to rise when Grant starts dating Andrei Vasiliev, under her
Belorussian school teacher alias. Technically married, Vasiliev is a ruthless
counter-intelligence officer, leading (and exploiting) the KGB’s industrialized
Kompromat campaign. He also seems to be responsible for a rash of murdered sex-workers
(the Soviet definitely did not call them that), which Hasbeck sleuths out, despite
the state media’s strenuous efforts to sweep it under the rug.
Throughout
Ponies, Hasbeck and Grant kvetch like Peter Falk and Alan Arkin in The
In-Laws. Yet, Fogel, Iserson, and their co-writers never let the bickering
banter overshadow the Cold War intrigue. This is surprisingly sophisticated
skullduggery, that springs several clever surprises as it chugs along. For the
most part, it largely casts the Communists as the villains. Without question, Vasiliev
is unambiguous cruel and unpredictably violent. Plus, it is crystal clear from
the first minutes, Communism has been an abject failure, judging from the depressed
and dilapidated conditions in Moscow.
Eventually,
Fogel and Iserson start revealing the CIA’s ethical flexibility, but by that
time, Vasiliev has racked up an impressive body-count and menaced countless
more. In an unnecessary, unforced error, George H.W. Bush deserves a better depiction
than he receives here (played by Patrick Fabian), in really every respect. Regardless,
the series clearly gives free enterprise the overwhelming advantage over
socialism. Unfortunately, the careful plotting starts to unravel down the
stretch and the ultimate conclusion is deeply unsatisfying (and quite far from
conclusive).
Finland has the dubious legacy of the term “Finlandization,” describing their
formal neutrality, while falling ambiguously within the Soviet Union’s sphere
of influence. This cloak-and-dagger miniseries depicts the secret (partially
fictional) history of how it happened. The strategic decisions made by the
Finish Security Intelligence Service are questionable, but least they try to
avert a Cuban Missile Crisis-style threat to global stability in Kirsti &
Katri Manninen’s ten-part Shadow Lines, which premieres tomorrow on
Sundance Now.
Helena
Korhonen pursues her studies in America as best she can, despite still suffering
post-traumatic stress from WWII, until she is targeted by an act of not so
random street crime. Calling the panic number her godfather, FIST-division
spymaster Yrjo Ylitalo gave her, Korhonen is whisked backed to Finland by
real-life socialite Tabe Slioor. Cleaning up the incident, Slioor discovers the
attacker wore Soviet-manufactured shoes (a plot thread that is left hanging in
season one.)
Maybe
not so coincidentally, the women share a flight to Helsinki with Donald Walker,
the replacement CIA agent for the one killed during FIST’s bungled U.S. Embassy
break-in. It was an operation Julius Boije conducted with his partner and fiancée,
but regrettably, he was forced to kill her shortly thereafter, when Ylitalo’s
agency busybody Aune Lyytinen discovered she had been turned by the KGB. Soon,
Ylitalo manipulates Korhonen into taking her place, to exploit Walker’s obvious
interest.
They
are concerned about CIA attempts to bolster the presidential campaign of the
pro-Western candidate, whereas Ylitalo favors the candidacy of Urho Kekkonen,
believing the Soviets will return their Naval base “leased” on Porkkala to
reward his overtures to the USSR. However, a cabal of KGB and Red Army officers
hoping to depose Khrushchev, in favor of Molotov, have developed a potential ICBM
that could reach DC, if launched from Porkkala, so they are determined to keep
it. Meanwhile. the deeper Ylitalo draws Korhonen into his web, the more she suspects
he has lied to her about her own origins.
It
is a shame John le Carré just passed, because he would have appreciated the
complexity and moral ambiguity of the Manninen mother-daughter tandem’s tale of
historical espionage. Ylitalo and FIST engage in all sorts of dirty deals and double-crosses,
but in their case, they do it all in the name of neutrality. If anything, they
cost their nation a degree of autonomy, given the censorship exercised on the USSR’s
behalf during the Finlandization era (for instance, Billy Wilder’s One, Two,
Three was banned for twenty-five years). It is also worth noting all the
American characters who die in Shadow Lines are killed by Finns (albeit
in one case, by a KGB turncoat).
Frankly,
things get exponentially more complicated than a brief thumbnail can convey,
especially when Lisa Salmen (codename: Lynx) shows up. The Finnish-émigré-turned
CIA agent is supposed to be one of the show’s villains, but she is too much fun
to root against when she rolls her eyes at traditional rustic Finnish
delicacies.
